


like dark turning into day

by theomegapoint



Series: Kinktober 2019 [12]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Scars, True Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2021-01-08 07:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theomegapoint/pseuds/theomegapoint
Summary: “Strong,” T’challa says, mostly to himself. His fingers trace over the marks, and Erik shivers. “You could have made a good king, with more restraint.”“Gonna leave that to you, cuz.” Erik’s given up that dream. It went up in flames when the rest of Wakanda did and that’s behind them, now. T’challa gave him a new path and so far it suits him. Probably better that he stays in his lane now. “You the one that’s been training for it.”“You will still make a good queen.” T’challa brings a hand up to cup the back of Erik’s neck, bringing their foreheads together. “If you want, that is.”





	like dark turning into day

T’challa’s hand settles in the center of Erik’s chest, and he fights the urge to shy away from the touch. The parts of him that can’t be erased by posturing as an alpha don’t like when people _focus_ on the scars littering his chest. He put them there because it was a transgression—that an omega would display their strength and brutality kept most alphas at bay and the rest Erik can deal with. He knows how to deal with that. This he doesn’t know the protocol for.

“Strong,” T’challa says, mostly to himself. His fingers trace over the marks, and Erik shivers. “You could have made a good king, with more restraint.”

“Gonna leave that to you, cuz.” Erik’s given up that dream. It went up in flames when the rest of Wakanda did and that’s behind them, now. T’challa gave him a new path and so far it suits him. Probably better that he stays in his lane now. “You the one that’s been training for it.”

“You will still make a good queen.” T’challa brings a hand up to cup the back of Erik’s neck, bringing their foreheads together. “If you want, that is.”

It’s a strong offer. Erik’s been thinking about it since T’challa made it a few days ago—from what he’s gathered, the titles of king father and queen mother don’t have anything to do with gender, like they do in Europe, and the king’s mate doesn’t have to take the title of queen if there’s a title they prefer more. The thing that confused Erik the most was how T’challa could take him as a mate if they were both omegas, and T’challa had waved it off when Erik tried to grill him about what they would do about lineage if they _did_ get mated.

_If Bast so wishes, she will bless us._

S’weird, if Erik’s being honest. He grew up with the stories of Wakanda, sure, but it’s different to be _told_ that gods are real and alive. That’s like a fairytale, and it doesn’t match up with the reality of gods actually being real and alive. Meeting Bast himself, having her deem him worthy of the powers of the heart-shaped herb—that’s all shit he would’ve said was Wakandan fairytale bullshit before it happened to him. So yeah. Logically, of course Bast can just Jesus a baby into anybody she pleases. That’s just literally not something Erik would ever think of as a solution to the problem and he’s still coming to terms with the easy way that Wakanda doesn’t care about gender.

He’d let Shuri sit him down a week ago for the world’s worst crash-course in Wakandan gender politics that he suspects was part of her way of punishing him for nearly killing her brother. Erik doesn’t blame her. He did a lot of fucked-up shit before he had a chance to, like. Work through his anger toward something he didn’t really understand. It’s weird. Nearly killing your true mate is weird and at the time Erik didn’t think about why he threw T’challa off the side instead of actually killing him but now he knows.

He also knows that unlike in America, where he’d had to fight tooth and nail for people to recognize him as an omega, Wakanda’s got that covered. The Dora Milaje are all omegas, and some of them have the same scars he does littered across their chests. Maybe that’s why T’challa basically touches them every chance he gets. He’s grown up having to look at them from afar and he knows what they symbolize. He touches them like they’re sacred, and it’s a novelty to Erik. He’s used to people thinking they’re disgusting or something sad. T’challa looks at them like they’re meant to be looked at: as a display of Erik’s strength.

“I tried to destroy Wakanda,” Erik says, instead of any of the things going through his head. It’s not an answer. “Ain’t they all gonna hate me?”

“Wakanda forgives easily. You are not the first to attempt such a thing and you will not be the last.” The way T’challa says it is easy, like major upsets in Wakanda happen all the time. Maybe they do—Erik’s not exactly up in his Wakandan history, after all. “I am their king. Who I choose as queen or mate is not their concern.”

Hand settling on Erik’s side, T’challa presses a kiss to the first scar on his chest. Erik knows that T’challa understands the significance of the gesture, and he breathes out all the doubt that’s been settling in his chest. He knows that T’challa is _asking_ and that if he says _no_, then T’challa will accept that and move on. They’ll always be linked, but they don’t have to be linked like that, not if Erik says they don’t.

It’s a choice, and that’s more that Erik’s ever been given before.

“When we mate,” Erik says, which is still not quite an answer, “where you gonna put the mark?”

“Are you asking where it traditionally goes, or where I’d like to mark you?” T’challa’s smile is small, like he knows what the answer is either way. “Traditionally, it would go on your shoulder.”

T’challa’s hand moves from where it was to curve over Erik’s shoulder. Thinking on it, Erik realises that he’s seen those marks, they just didn’t register to him as bonding marks. Shit’s different in Wakanda, and he’s just never going to be totally used to it.

“Yeah, that’s not what I asked.” Erik’s hands find T’challa’s hips, pulling him close. “I asked where _you_ are gonna mark _me_.”

Without saying anything, T’challa moves his hand from Erik’s shoulder to curl around the back of his neck. He says nothing, merely using the position to pull Erik down and kiss him. That’s as good an answer as any, and Erik thinks . . . well, he doesn’t know about becoming queen mother. That seems like a responsibility he doesn’t want, especially not with Auntie Ramonda still alive and all. She can keep her title—maybe he’ll take it in the future, but not right now.

“Mate me,” he says, once he pulls away from T’challa. “Everything else can wait.”

“I have go attend a meeting in ten minutes,” T’challa says, amused, “I don’t want to leave you while the bond settles.”

“Tonight then,” Erik says. He doesn’t let go of T’challa. “Mate me tonight.”

“Tonight,” T’challa agrees. He presses another kiss to the corner of Erik’s mouth. “Now let me go so I can get ready before Okoye comes in and tries to kill you again.”

That makes Erik let go. She’s a scary motherfucker and he doesn’t care to get in her way. T’challa will be back soon enough and Erik’s got shit to be doing too. Shuri’ll have his hide if he doesn’t show up to his daily Wakanadan culture class in her workshop.

“Go be a king or whatever,” Erik says. “Tonight you’ll be all mine, though.”

“I’m always ‘all yours,’ as you say.” The corner of T’challa’s eyes crinkle the way they do when he’s too polite to laugh out loud. “That would be the definition of ‘true mate,’ would it not?”

_Yeah,_ Erik thinks, _it would._

**Author's Note:**

> some people believe words have meaning but not me all words are fake and therefore i can assign whatever meaning i want to them in fantasy a/b/o land


End file.
